


A Time To Love

by Goldenhairandoceaneyes



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Play, Ageplay, Daddy Kink, I'll add more tags later, Infatilism, M/M, Progressive Age Play, daddy!louis, i hate tagging things ugh, little!Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-03-08 07:02:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldenhairandoceaneyes/pseuds/Goldenhairandoceaneyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wishes people didn't forget he's the youngest of the band. The stress gets to him, and he seems to cry a lot more, and be clingy more often than not. The boys accept it since Harry’s always quirky, but his boyfriend Louis notices and takes care of Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one: The great slip up

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so don't judge me too hard bc I suck at updating. Really I do.m  
> Also. THIS CONTAINS AGE PLAY. Don't leave salty comments because you can't read the tags.  
> Xx enjoy.

Harry lays in bed still awake, staring up at the ceiling, wrapped up in his older boyfriend’s arms. The only sound in the room is the two lover’s synchronised breathing. He sighs quietly, and bites his lower lip, willing the tears to stay in. The day had been incredibly overwhelming, and stressful. Jam packed full of too many interviews, too many press conferences, and too many screaming fans. It was really all just too much for any nineteen year old boy to handle. All of his friends were finishing up their first years at UNI and he had just finished up his world tour. Don’t get him wrong, now. He loves touring and spending time with his three best mates and amazing boyfriend, but it was tedious a lot of the time, especially with media and management forgetting he’s just a teenager. Harry relaxes his body, then, remembering that it’s okay to be upset, and he let’s his thumb idly slip into his mouth before drifting off into a peaceful slumber.

Louis woke up around dawn, a stream of sun shining on his face making him squint a bit as he opened his eyes. He tightens his arms around the warm body they encase. Louis smiles down at the sleeping boy, curly hair a mess, the light highlighting his skin and, wait, is that? Is Harry sucking on his thumb? The thought parades through his mind, and he surprisingly seems at ease with it. Harry is Harry, after all. Quirky, bubbly, Hazza, and if the boy sucks his thumb in his sleep, well so be it.

Louis carefully shifted in their warm bed so that he could see the younger lad’s face a bit more easily. Sure enough, Harry’s thumb was bobbing between his swollen, pink lips. Louis can’t help but internally coo at the vulnerable looking boy, and cuddles him in closer. Harry rolls over, nuzzling his face into Louis’ inked chest, and yawning around his thumb. “Well, goodmorning sleeping beauty.” Louis chuckled, brushing some hair from Harry’s face and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “‘mornin’.” The curly brunette mumbled, and pulled his reddened thumb from his mouth, not really caring if Louis’ had seen or not. “You know babe, sucking your thumb isn’t good for it. It’ll get quite sore if you keep it up.” Louis reprimanded, more concerned about the well being of his boyfriend than the action itself. “Sorry.” Harry whispered, his cheeks flushing pink. Louis hummed a bit, pulling the curls to his chest again. “Let’s just cuddle before we go downstairs for food, yeah? I think Zayn is cooking this morning.” The feathery haired brunette smiled at the mop of curls nodding into his tattooed skin.

So they lay together in a mess of blankets and limbs, before Harry’s stomach grumbles and Louis tries everything to get Harry out of bed, kisses, cuddles, scolding, he even tried to drag the boy out of bed. It takes quite a few tries, and promises of cuddles before bed, but he convinces the boy to get up.

They stumble into the kitchen around noon, and after seeing what time it was, Louis loudly declares something about “It’s absolutely unacceptable to be having breakfast food after eleven thirty.” Harry rolls his eyes, sitting down at their large table. They can hear the commotion of their band mates in the media room down the hall, from the squabbling and vulgarity of their shouts, Harry assumes they’re playing some sort of video game.

“Let’s have lunch then, I’m hungry.” He mutters, keeping his eyes glues to the table top. Louis nods and rummages through the cupboards, “Well, what would you like Hazza?” Harry’s face scrunches up in concentration. Is it acceptable to ask for mac’n’cheese? They have some for times when Lux or Louis’ sisters come over, but it’s a children's meal. Louis notices the distraught look on his boyfriend’s face, and knows exactly what it means. (He’s seen this look on several occasions, always in the bedroom, and always when Harry wanted to try something new and was simply afraid to ask.) Gently, Louis walks over, placing his hands on Harry’s shoulders, gently massaging them, sweetly whispering “What is it, Haz? You can tell me.” Harry squirms in his seat a bit, and his face goes pink. “Would it be alright if we had mac’n’cheese? The one’s shaped like dinosaurs?” He hides his face in his hands. He didn’t really understand why he was so embarrassed about asking for this, it was just food after all.

However this, for Harry at least, was much more than just another meal. This was about a sense of security in the small things he could get away with undetected by his bandmates, no matter how trivial and ridiculous they were; It made him feel warm and fuzzy, and it always had. Louis chuckles a bit, not really understanding why Harry had made such a big deal out of asking for mac’n’cheese of all things. “Yeah, ‘course we can babe.” He presses a few kisses to his younger boyfriend’s head of curls, and turns back to the cupboards, pulling out everything he would need to cook their meal and lining it up on the marble countertop. As Louis cooked their food, Harry simply sat at the table waiting, twiddling his thumbs, picking at a hangnail, eavesdropping on his video game addicted band mates, just, waiting. In all honesty, he wished he had something to do, like a coloring book, or building bricks, or even just a stuffy to distract himself while the time ticked by.

Louis mixed the last of the ingredients together, and put the contents of the pot into separate bowls, setting them down at the table. Harry is shockingly quiet as they eat, and Louis senses something just generally off about the boy. He knows he has to be gentle about the topic, or Harry will think Louis is mad at him for something. Harry always assumes the worst, it’s just who he is. “Hazza Bear, is something wrong, love?” Louis whispers across the table, taking his lover’s hand in his own. Harry looks up long enough to shake his head ‘no’ and quickly goes back to eating his food.

Truth is, a lot was wrong. Harry was tired, and irritable. Management was stressing him out, the fans were stressing him out, he hadn’t slept more than a few hours a night for weeks at this point. He just wanted to cuddle up in Louis’ lap and have him bottle feed him, but that’s weird, right? That’s not a request a normal nineteen year old makes, and he just didn’t think it was worth losing the most important person in his life. Louis would freak out and want absolutely nothing to do with him anymore, Harry was sure of it.  
Louis lets out a small frustrated sigh, “Harry, I know you. I know something is wrong. You’ll have to tell me sooner or later.” Harry just shrugs his shoulders, stands up, and puts his plate of half finished food in the sink for someone (Louis) to wash for him later. Louis shakes his head, watching his boyfriend walk down the hallway, and disappear into the media room.

Harry dramatically throws himself onto the couch, sighing far too loudly, and Niall looks up from the large gaming screen. “Somethin’ wrong Haz?” He asks, concern painting his face. Harry just shrugs, and shakes his head no. He’d much rather watch a Disney film than Liam and Zayn playing fifa, but if this is what it takes to get away from Louis interrogation, but still be in the same room as other people, he supposes he can deal with it. Niall furrows his eyebrows, clearly something was wrong and Harry was just being stubborn. He assumed the younger lad was just having an off day and left it at that. Harry put up with the loud shouting for quite a while, but grew bored quickly and left the room once again. Wandering into the living room, he spotted Louis’ on the couch with a book and cup of tea. Harry sauntered over to the couch, and plopped down beside Louis, curling his body into the older lad’s side. “Well, look who came around. Hi, baby.” Louis smiled, marking his spot and setting his book down.

Harry blushed at the pet name, but whispered a “Hi.” in response. Louis wrapped an arm around the boy’s waist, pulling his warmth further in. “Everything alright, cuddle bug?” Louis sort of hopes if he asks enough times, Harry will just crack and tell him. That’s hardly ever the case though, and they both know it. Harry internalizes all of his emotions, and as a good boyfriend, it’s usually Louis job to figure out what’s going on in that head of chocolate curls. “Do you need anything babe?” Louis asks, rubbing small circles on the small of Harry’s back. Hesitantly, Harry nods, looking up at Louis. “Could you get me a glass of milk?” He asks, his eyes darting down to a string on his shirt that’s suddenly the most interesting thing on the planet. Louis bites his lip, unsure as to why Harry is acting so weird, “Yeah, babe. Sure.” He kisses Harry’s forehead, and makes his way into the kitchen. He takes out a plastic cup covered in blue and pink polkadots, and fills it halfway with milk. As he pours the milk, he ponders, this isn’t a normal request. Harry doesn’t really even like milk all that much. Louis shakes his head, and returns to Harry, who takes the cup from him happily. Harry tips the plastic to his lips and takes a sip, scrunching his nose up a bit. “Something wrong?” Louis asks, wrapping his arms around his Hazza’s waist. “W-would you mind, uhm, warming it up f-for me?” Harrys stutters, and at this point the blush on his face seems to be permanent.

Louis just nods, taking the drink from Harry’s shaking hand, and walking back into the kitchen. Louis puts the cup in the microwave, not really wanting to bother with the stove right now, and sets the time for a minute. Louis watches the milk spin around and around on the plate before the microwave goes dark and a loud beep echoes through the room. Louis can hear the boys laughing over some lame movie, and wonders if he should drag Harry in there to watch. Why was Haz being so distant lately? He’d never acted like this before. He was so clingy, and needy, and it was endearing and all, Louis just needed to know why. He shook the thoughts from his head, and went back to Harry, still seated on the couch, fiddling with a throw pillow.

When Harry looked up, his green eyes lit up, and he actually smiled a genuine smile, the first Louis had seen in days. Louis exhaled, pleased he was finally able to paint a smile on his boyfriends face by… taking care of him? That sort of seems like what he’d been doing all day. Louis handed the warm glass over to the smiling boy, who took a sip, and made a noise of contentment. “Thank you.” He states simply, looking up at Louis. “Anytime, love. Finish your milk, and then we’re going to watch a movie with the guys, alright?” Louis phrased his words like Harry had a choice, but he hoped his demeanor threw out that it definitely wasn’t anything of the like. Harry was going to spend time with his best mates for once, and that was final. Harry was about to protest, but shut his mouth seeing the look on Louis’ face. He nodded and took another sip of the warm milk, silently wishing that it was in a bottle instead and- no. No, he couldn’t.

Louis was doing enough for him as it was, and he didn’t need to reveal his weird desires and risk losing what he already had. Louis sat next to him, wrapping an arm around the boy as he drank and read a few more pages of his book. Harry reached forward and set the empty glass on the table in front of them, and Louis swooped it up, replacing it with his book. “Come on babe, let’s go spend time with the lads.” Harry let out a whine, but Louis was quick to have him up on his feet. Louis took Harry’s hand in his own, pulling him towards the other side of the house. They walk into the media room, and took a seat on the couch. The boys were debating over what to watch next, so they didn’t really notice the oldest and youngest band members in the room. Zayn groans, having lost the battle two to one, and turns around to sit. “Oh look who’s come to join us lads!” He smiles, ruffling Harry’s hair, and a blush falls over his face. Louis smiles, “What’re we watching then?” He asks his younger friends, and Niall and Liam respond in unison with “Anchorman two.” Louis nods in approval, and Harry curls into his side a bit more as the lights are turned out. Harry let’s out a distressed whine and Louis leans down to whisper, “What’s wrong babe?” Harry just shakes his head and buries his face in the crook of Louis’ soft shoulder. “It’s dark, I don’t like it.” Louis shook his head, since when was Harry afraid of the dark? Regardless, he pulls his boyfriend into his lap. “I’ve got you.”

He presses his lips to the younger lad’s cheek, and the movie begins to play. Harry is zoned out for the most part through the movie, laughing when everyone else laughs, but otherwise staying silent, curled against his Louis. The movie is soon enough over, and Louis makes Harry stay as he chats with the other three younger boys. Harry yawns obnoxiously loud, and nuzzles Louis’ neck. Louis rolls his eyes and turns to their bandmates, “I suppose it Hazza’s bedtime.” He teases, and the other boy’s laugh a bit, more awkwardly than anything. Harry was being distant from all of them, and really hadn’t said a word to anyone other than Louis in a few days, and it was freaking everyone out. Gemma had even called Niall asking if Harry was okay, because he wasn’t returning her texts or calls. Louis stands up, pulling at Harry’s hand. “C’mon Haz, let’s go to bed if you’re tired then. It is like…. 9 o’clock.” Was it really so late? Louis must have forced the boy to participate in band bonding longer than he had originally thought. Harry simply pouts, green eyes glittering and holding his arms up like….like he wanted to be carried to bed? “Harry, come on, up with you lad, baby, let’s go.” Louis tried again, figuring it was worth a shot, even though he knew Harry wasn’t going to get up on his own, and he was going to be carried like the gigantic man-child he was.

Louis groaned and lifted the boy up, struggling a little bit, but silently thanking the ridiculous weight regimen that their personal trainer puts them to. Turns out, it comes in handy. Hauling the limp body up the stairs wasn’t the easiest task, but it was manageable. As Louis was dressing the compliant boy into his pyjamas, and tucking him into their shared bed, he felt an overwhelming surge of… paternal pride? No. Definitely not paternal pride. That’s fucking weird, Louis. Stop that. He slips into bed next to the boy, clapping to turn the light off, and wrapping his arms around Harry’s warm shape.

Louis wakes up at three in the morning to the overwhelming stench of urine, Harry sucking his thumb, and a drenched thigh. “What the fu-” He mutters to himself, pulling the covers back to reveal Harry had wet himself in his sleep. “Haz. Hazza, baby, wake up.” He shakes the boy, cringing at how absolutely drenched their bed was. Harry stirs awake “Dada, ‘m tired.” He whines, and then bolts up, realising what he just called his boyfriend. “Harry- what, is. What??” Louis asks, tired, shocked and ever so slightly annoyed. “Lou, I didn’t- I mean- oh god.” Harry bolts up, running to the bathroom attached to their bedroom and locking the door, slumping against it and sobbing. Had he seriously just wet the bed and called his boyfriend “Dada”? What the hell was wrong with him. Louis sits there, open mouth, in absolute shock. He snaps out of his little daze upon hearing a sob through the bathroom door. He pulls off his urine covered clothes, replacing them with clean ones, and knocks gently on the door.

“Harry, sweetie, will you please open up? Please?” Harry cries harder, he didn’t want Louis’ sympathy and he was probably just coming in here to break up with him anyways, right? Why would he open the door for that? “Harry, baby, I love you. Let’s talk about this. You’re alright babe, I’m not angry.” Louis says against the door, trying his best to coax the boy into opening the door. Harry gulps, standing up and unlocking the door. He slowly pulls it open and is bombarded by Louis wrapping his strong arms around him. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you. Please don’t cry. Please? Whatever this is, we can work it out, make it work. Shh.” Louis whispers in between the kisses he peppers the younger boy’s face in. “Let’s get you cleaned up, get the bed cleaned up, and we’ll talk about this in the morning, alright?” He says sweetly, pulling at Harry’s hand.

Harry obediently walks behind Louis, and is stripped from his urine soaked clothing. Louis picks out the softest, fluffiest pair of sweatpants they own (because let’s be honest, they co-own all of their clothing), and helps his still sniffling boyfriend step into them. He strips the drenched sheets and duvet from the bed, tossing it to the floor, and going to the linen closet to get new ones. Thankfully, the mattress hadn’t gotten as wet as the sheets had, and was seemingly fine to sleep on, although he would have to ask the maid to steam clean it in the morning. Louis pulled everything onto the bed messily, but lightning quick, and pulls Harry into bed, kissing him and tucking him into his arms. Warmth and love lingers in the air, surrounding them and comforting Harry. “Goodnight, Hazza. Sleep, okay? I love you.” Harry sighed, reaching his hand up and wiping a stray tear from his face. “Love you too, Louis.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am quitE LITERALLY THE WORST. I AM SO SORRY THIS IS SO SHORT UGH.   
> I am suffering from crippling writers block here.   
> Somethings better than nothing, right?   
> ugh sorry.

When Harry wakes up, he wakes up to a bare scratchy mattress and Louis no where in sight. He groans and rubs his eyes as he recalls the events of last night. Just don’t bring it up, don’t talk about it. He mentally assures himself before getting out of bed on wobbly legs. Harry tosses on one of Louis’ shirts, uncaring that it curves around his muscles quite obscenely, seeing as Louis is a tad bit smaller. 

He hears a clamour in the kitchen and assumes that’s where his older boyfriend is- probably making breakfast for the rest of the lads.

As Harry stumbles down the stairs Louis notices him immediately and all but runs over to him. Louis wraps his arms around the younger lad. 

“Hi baby, goodmorning. D’you want to shower love? I’ll join you if you’d like… or, I could leave you to it if you’d prefer?” Louis rambles, unsure how to act around his venerable boyfriend. His arms are wrapped around the boy tightly still, Harry’s messy mop of curls nestled into Louis’ neck. Harry simply whines and nods. 

Louis lets out a light chuckle. “Well, baby, which is it? With me, or alone?” Harry nuzzled into Louis neck again, his breath hot against the older boy’s skin. 

“W-with you, please…” He mewled, his voice raspy and weak from crying last night. Louis of course took notice of the scratch in his lad’s voice. “Oh, lovely, ouch. Nice shower and then a nice cuppa with honey, yeah? How’s that sound?” 

Harry nodded into his Louis’ skin again, giving a little noise of approval, though he knew it wasn’t really a question. Louis was always really obsessed with making sure Harry was healthy and taken care of, really not that he minded… like at all really. That was probably the reason Harry felt like his boyfriend deserved the name ‘Daddy’. It was probably why he had slipped up last night and-

“Harry, kitten? Earth to Hazza, where’d my boyfriend go hm? Lost in your thoughts babe?” Louis chuckles, fondly stroking Harry’s cheek. 

Why was Louis being so goddamned nice? Were they just ignoring that Harry had accidently wet the bed and referred to his boyfriend as “Dada”? Because Harry was fine with that, yeah sure, but he also wanted Louis to kiss him and just… let him know it was okay. That...that Daddy was there.

“Harry, babe, say something. You’re starting to scare me. What’s wrong?” Louis furrowed his eyebrows, studying the smaller boy’s features. 

Harry broke, he started shaking his head and sobbing. He couldn’t catch his breath, and it felt like he was drowning.   
Louis’ eyes went wide as Harry’s face twisted into a breathless sob. “Harry, Hazza, love hey, you’re okay, you’re alright. Don’t work yourself up baby, shh. I’ve got you, Harry. I’m here.” He brought the mess of sobs into his arms. 

“Louis, I-I’m j-ust a… fuc-fucking freak!” Harry gasped in between painful sobs. Louis’ heart felt like a thousand pounds. He had no idea what the absolute fuck was going on but he could not allow Harry to feel so wounded. He gently grabbed Harry’s jaw, forcing the green eyes to his. 

“Harry Edward Tomlinson.” Louis scolds, putting extra emphasis on the fact he used his own last name because damn it, if it weren’t for management that would damn well be Harry’s last name. “We do not talk about ourselves in such a harmful way. We talk through our emotions.” He reprimands, 

“Come on baby, let’s go to our room. We’ll shower and then talk… or talk and then shower? Which would you prefer, love?” He runs his fingers through curly brown hair.

“Shower. Then t-talk.” Harry whispers, wiping his wet cheeks with his hands.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it short again? Yes. Is it as good as the first chapter? God no. Is it better than the last one? Hopefully. Will I update again soon? Perhaps.

Their shower was short and quiet. The only sounds were Harry’s occasional sniffles, followed by comforting little whispers from Louis, the water smacking against the glass shower door, and ruckus from the boys downstairs.

Louis stepped out of the shower first. He left Harry alone in the shower for a bit as he made his way into their bedroom, quickly drying himself off, and slipping on a pair of sweats in record time. He nearly sprinted back to the washroom to retrieve the younger boy. 

“Here we go, Haz. Let’s get you dry, c’mon babe.” He whispered gently, reaching out and turning off the hot stream of water. He held up a white fluffy towel, wrapping him up immediately as he left the tiled space. 

“Lou… I don’t want to talk about it.” Harry murmured, sitting on the toilet lid so that Louis could towel dry his hair. He leaned into Louis’ gentle touch while he wiped the water up from the mop of brown curls. 

“Well, love, I’m sorry about that, but we really should. I do hate to see you so very upset. Hurts me too, y’know.” Louis replied fondly. He didn’t want to pressure his younger boyfriend into speaking about what happened last night, or about his breakdown, or about why he had refused to have a proper conversation with anyone but Louis for weeks, but he felt as though he needed to break through to the lad. Something was obviously wrong and as a boyfriend, it was clearly his job to take care of Harry, right? 

Sometimes Louis had found himself wanting to take care of the lad in a more permanent and even paternal way, but he had always shook the feelings off, deeming them weird and diagnosing himself with a lack of sleep to cause the odd thoughts. It definitely was weird to want to carry him around, or overuse childish pet names, or buy him things a nineteen year old lad should not necessarily need, and Louis did his best to push the cravings away. 

Harry pouted, quite literally jutted out his bottom lip and crossed his arms, pouted. “But why?” He whimpered his gaze not quite meeting with Louis’. 

“Don’t need to have a strop about it, Hazza. We need to talk about it because you’ll be happier if we do.” Louis left no room for argument as he finished towel drying the water droplets from his messy curls. 

Harry sucked in a shuddery breath. “Fine.” 

“There’s my Harry, the one I know and love so very very much, c’mon let’s get you dressed.” Louis encased Harry’s hand in his own, pressing his lips to it. A small gesture, but he had hoped it would make Harry smile at least a little. 

Harry smirked childishly, his eyes meeting Louis’. “Yeah..” He said breathily. 

Louis loves him. Louis loves him. Louis loves him. He knows damn well that this won’t break them up. Well, he hopes not at least. They’ve been through a ton, this couldn’t be that weird. He’s read things about other couples doing this. It wasn’t as if he was utterly and completely alone with the kink. 

Before he knew it, Louis was hoisting him up and carrying him into the bedroom. He laid his head against Louis’ shoulder. He undoubtedly could get used to being carried, and if this conversation works out well, I’ll never have to walk again. He thought to himself, burrowing his face farther into the warmth of his boyfriend's neck.

Louis lays him down, and goes to the dresser to get some pyjama bottoms. They weren’t going out or anything, so actual pants weren’t really required. 

After Harry was dry, dressed, and had calmed down a tad bit, Louis sat by him on their bed, pulling the lad into his lap. He wrapped his arms securely around Harry’s torso, and cuddled into him. “Alright, babe, where to start…” He bites his lip, thinking for a long moment. 

“Why won’t you talk with anyone but me?” He decides to start out slow, one question at a time will get him his answers soon enough. 

“Because I forget to, sometimes. It’s like, you’re all the company I need. I don’t do it to be rude, but the less people I talk to, the less issues I have to deal with, I’ve decided. It's just easier. Less stressful.” Harry plays with the hem of his shirt, snuggling into Louis’ chest. 

“Fair enough. But you really should talk with the other lad’s more Hazza. They miss you a ton babe. They love you nearly as much as I do, you know.” Louis wraps his fingers around one of the boy’s curls, toying with it for a moment before dropping it and pressing a kiss to Harry’s head.

Harry leaned in to the soft touches, he had missed being able to talk to Louis about any and every thing. Their relationship had started out so strong, and they had talked through every little scrap, or uncomfortable situation. The communication between the two had been incredibly trusting, they had shared an unbreakable bond, but Harry had begun to push Louis away when the stress of life started to pile up. 

“Next question,” Louis began, before he was interrupted by a knock on the bedroom door. 

“Are you two losers still sleeping?!” He heard Liam shout from the other side of the door. “Get up! We’ve got a cab to catch in like four hours, takes you longer than that to do your hair Louis!” 

Louis rolled his eyes fondly, “We were up before you, ya twat! Leave us be!” He calls back, hugging Harry close.  
Liam shrugged from the other side of the door and wandered off to bother Zayn and Niall. Harry, meanwhile, had found himself cuddled even closer to Louis. 

“What was last night, I mean, you like, called me Dada... I think? Was it a bad dream, or?” Louis said nervously and quickly, knowing he couldn’t dance around the conversation for forever. Harry’s face went pale, and he took a shuddery breath. He wasn’t quite sure where to start, or how to say it. 

“It’s like, sometimes I just, I feel smaller, Lou. I don’t know how to explain it.... I just don’t feel like a teenager sometimes and it makes me feel… less anxious? Calmer? I don’t know. I just depend on you so much, it sort of slipped out? It felt natural, I guess. I don't know, I dontknow, Idontknow....” He was speaking quickly, slurring his He buried his face in his hands, leaning into Louis’ chest.

Louis took a moment to take everything in. He didn’t quite understand how Harry felt, but he did know that whatever this was, if it made Harry happy, well then it made him happy too. 

When soft sounds began to slip past Harry's lips again, Louis knew he was once again crying. "No need for tears, cupcake." He soothed, rocking his younger boyfriend in his arms. "You're alright love. I've got you. Shhh. Let me see that pretty face." He cooed, kissing his boyfriend's head. 

Harry whimpered, pulling his hands away from his tear streaked face. "I'm sorry..." He muttered, his whole body trembling. Louis quickly shook his head, "Darling, don't say you're sorry. I'm not mad, I promise. Pinky promise." He held out his smallest digit, and smiling, Harry wrapped his finger around Louis'. "Tell me more about this, please?" Louis asked, making it sound more like a loving demand than a question. Harry sniffled and shook his head no, his face burning a bright red. "No..." 

Louis raised his eyebrows at the boy, "Pardon me?" He asked sternly, Harry blushed even harder due to the tone Louis had used with him and shook his head again. "Harry Edward Styles. How on earth am I supposed to make you happy if you don't tell me what it is you want. I promise you I will not think negatively of it Hazza." Louis said in a more soothing tone now, trying to avoid the next set of impending tears. 

Taking a deep breath Harry began. "It's... like this. Sometimes I-I feel like little. N-not physically little but I feel little in my mind."

"Little?" Louis asked, interrupting the quivering lad. 

"Little." Harry confirmed. "Like, toddler-little." He said with a blush creeping back across his face. 

"Does all of...this?" Louis gestured into the air with his hands, "have a name?" 

Harry blushed again then, burying his face into Louis' neck. He nodded slowly. "Yes..." He whispered, only loud enough for Louis to hear. "Well, go on then baby." Louis encouraged. 

Another deep breath from Harry before a quick "Age play." escaped his lips. "I-it's called age play." He said slower this time, squeezing his eyes shut extra tight.


End file.
